Note to Self
by FallAway
Summary: “This conversation does not leave this room.” Mac, Logan, and an argument that supposedly qualifies as advice. Oneshot.


Summary: "This conversation does not leave this room." Mac, Logan, and an argument that supposedly qualifies as advice. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I definitely do not own them. But I'm thrilled that they finally have interaction on the show.

A/N: I've wanted to see Logan and Mac interaction since … well, since season one, to be completely honest. You can imagine how thrilled I was that they had so many scenes together last night, even if the plotline was kind of lame and whatever. But Hider and I love these two and she wanted this so I'm running with it. Reviews would be fabulous.

--

He leans over the back of the couch to see what she's doing and she rolls her eyes, continuing to type and alter the html code. "You know you're never going to figure out how to change the layout on this thing by yourself, right?"

"As long as I have you, I won't need to," he counters easily. Mac stops typing and turns around, narrowing her eyes dangerously. Logan smirks and shrugs his shoulders, pushing himself to a standing position and wandering over to the sliding glass door.

"Oh, I see," she nods and turns back to the laptop, glad that he can't see her smile. "I'm just your personal techie."

"At least I pay you," he retorts. "Last time I checked, your other masters don't grant you that courtesy."

"Wow. You've lost your touch."

"Pardon?" Logan questions, suddenly dropping down next to her on the leather couch. She nods and then gets distracted by an alignment error, biting her lip and furrowing her brow as she leans closer to the screen. Cursing under her breath, she sighs and opens a new window.

His gaze burns into her and finally she glances at him out of the corner of her eye, smirking softly. "Your insults used to actually be veiled."

"Right," he nods once, stretching his arms across the back of the couch. "We had to play twenty questions for you to get the reference."

"Don't flatter yourself," Mac snorts and he frowns. She sighs and sits back against the cushions, turning her eyes toward him fully. "You were never _that_ good, Logan."

"Ouch," he chuckles and clutches his chest with his right hand, eyes bright as he stares at her. "That hurt. You're getting better, Apple."

"I hate it when you call me that," she groans and closes her eyes, rolling her neck to ease some of the tension. "I'm hardly a celebrity's kid."

"If the hospital wasn't so blind, you could've been a local celebrity's kid," he reminds her. She opens her eyes and snaps her gaze back to his, narrowing her eyes again. If he keeps annoying her, she's going to have a migraine for the next week.

"And then I could've gotten you drunk in Aspen and Veronica wouldn't be speaking to either of us anymore," she replies. "Good plan!"

He shifts his gaze to the floor, tapping the fingers of his left hand against the leather couch in a nervous habit, and Mac feels terrible for pouring salt in the still-fresh wound. She sighs and reaches her hand out, then awkwardly pulls it back at the last second. Instead, she apologizes weakly and folds her hands in her lap.

He nods and the room is awkwardly silent. "You probably would've made me call her instead," he says after a moment.

"Yes. And then I would have laughed as you hung up just before she answered," she agrees, smiling a little. He laughs loudly and she chuckles in response, shaking her head back and forth.

"I didn't hang up after she found out and dumped me," he argues lightly. She frowns and shifts so that she's facing him completely, propping her head against her palm.

"You talked to her after you broke up?"

"No," he points at her but keeps his gaze forward, staring at the door of the suite. "I left a drunken voicemail that she never acknowledged. My guess is that she deleted it."

"That's probably an accurate inference," Mac nods and licks her bottom lip, taking a deep breath. "So where does Parker fit into all of this?"

"All of what?"

"You. Pining for Veronica," she explains, deadpan.

"I don't know," he looks at her and tilts his head slightly, a glint in his eyes that reminds her of Dick whenever he tortures her about senior year. "Where does Max fit into your relationship with Bronson?"

"That's different," she retorts hastily.

"Is it?" Logan asks, standing abruptly and heading for the kitchen.

"Yes," she says defensively, turning to watch him as he pulls a bottle of water from the fridge. The sight of the Aquafina label confuses her for a moment and she feels even worse. Shaking it off, she sighs and glares at him. "It is not my fault that Max keeps calling me," she reiterates what she told Veronica just yesterday.

"Technically it is," he replies, holding up a second bottle. She shakes her head and he shrugs, replacing it on the shelf and kicking the fridge door to shut it. "You gave Max your number, didn't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then you must've wanted him to call on some level."

"Logan—"

"Otherwise, you would've ignored his flirting at the party and gone to Bronson's instead."

"It was my roommate's birthday party," she snaps, irritated now. He nods and takes a long sip of his water, wiping his mouth as he furrows his brow and looks at her.

"Did you even invite Bronson to be your date?"

"He was studying all night."

"Of course he was," he smirks softly.

"Stop," she says seriously. He smiles and starts talking again and she stands suddenly, shaking her head vigorously. "Logan, _stop_," she repeats, quietly.

He clenches his jaw and she sighs heavily, tucking her hair behind her ear and dropping back down onto the couch, slamming her laptop shut before looking up at him again. "This conversation does not leave this room."

"Agreed," he nods once.

Mac gestures to the empty space next to her with a nod of her head and folds her arms across her chest as she slouches down against the back of the couch. "They're very different people."

"Fun and pushy in their own special ways," he laughs and takes another sip of his water, attracting her attention as he flips the bottle cap around with his fingers.

"Right," she smiles a little and swallows thickly. "But the past few days I keep wondering if it's better to be myself or try and be what my boyfriend wants me to be."

"And you keep thinking you'll feel better about yourself if you change."

"Exactly!" she raises bright eyes to his and then frowns, realizing that they're having the same conversation about completely different people. "Parker doesn't expect that of you, though, does she?" she asks gently.

"You tell me," he smirks and twists the cap back onto his bottle of water. "Like you said, she's your roommate."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs and digs her nails into her arm. "We don't stay up for hours discussing our love lives, Logan. We don't live in a college drama from the nineties."

"Oh," he frowns playfully and sighs through his nose. "Well, that just crushed all fantasies I had of the two of you pillow-fighting to work out your issues."

"Please don't ever discuss me in relation to your sexual fantasies again," she laughs.

"Tell me if I'm wasting my time wondering what Piz and Veronica are doing and it's a deal," he replies, the look on his face informing her that he is only half-teasing.

Taking a deep breath, she smiles reassuringly and unfolds her arms, reaching out and resting her hand lightly on his forearm. "Honestly? I don't think either of you will ever really move on."

Logan nods sadly and rests his head against the back of the couch, sighing heavily. "You should see where things go with Max if you think you like him."

She furrows her brow and makes a confused sound, prompting him to open his eyes and look at her. "One of us should be happy without constantly trying to better ourselves."

Her grip tightens on his forearm and she nods, smiling weakly.


End file.
